For No One
by Lady Nuit
Summary: "You find that all her words of kindness linger on when she no longer needs you". Molly Hooper was many things: kind, loving and bright, but recently she finds herself realizing that her life is not exactly what she imagined it to be. Now she wants to find happiness with or without Sherlock. Now he realizes that she counted in more ways than he could ever imagine.
1. No More Settling

**_Author's Note:_**_ Why am I writing Sherlolly? For one thing, I love Sherlock/Molly and it's basically my Sherlock BBC OTP. I love Molly and how she is more than she seems, and Sherlock's dependence on her whether he realizes it or not. But I was happily just a reader, until someone rudely messaged me and said "Why don't you write something yourself if you have it all solved" and I was like well…this is rude. But you know what? Here I am writing XD. I feared getting all the people into character but reading fanfics from great writers I feel like I can get a handle on this. _

_This story was inspired while I was hearing "For No One" from The Beatles' album 'Revolver'._

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Everything belongs to Moffat and Gatiss, but if I had my way Louise Brealey and Benedict Cumberbatch would act out all the Sherlolly plot ideas that the fandom had :P _

**_For No One_**

**_Chapter One: No More Settling_**

Molly Hooper was many things; she was a beloved pathologist, a published journalist in a famous science magazine, an avid cat lover, and despite being a small woman, had one of the biggest hearts. But recently, all these things seemed to not look that bright for her.

She was sick of settling; but then again she had done it for so long that she knew nothing else. It had started after graduating from college, she had settled into a small flat because she wanted to be a good little squirrel and save money for the future. It was a small place, one bed, a kitchen, and a small bathroom, nothing special but at the time she settled for 'homey'.

Then it started with her clothing. When she was younger, the cheaper the better was her father's motto. Her father was her whole world; her mother never really interested in Molly, in fact her mother's life centered on her own looks. Her father nurtured her and her brothers, and saving was the best form to save for later. She always found herself wearing hand-me-down jumpers, and as her brother's grew, so did her wardrobe, sadly she didn't really grow with them. Now, she saved whatever clothing she could as long as she could, but never had something that made her feel special. The one time she tried…she didn't want to remember that Christmas party.

She then began to settle with her dating life; even before she dated the infamous Jim Moriarty, she had found herself accepting that the romance would fizzle after the third date, sometimes even earlier. She found herself always saying yes, despite the fact she didn't find them appealing, partly because she was too kind to say no, and partly because it was nice to be loved. But at the end it always ended the same, she ended up single, and the only company she had was her cat Toby.

The thing that she was most ashamed about settling involved the infamous Sherlock Holmes. When she had met him she was twenty-four years old, and had just started working at St. Barts. He had been like a strong gust of wind when he entered her morgue, and she was instantly infatuated with the complex man. The moment he had opened his mouth to talk to her, the first thing that had come out was a criticism. From then on, she found herself not being able to snap back, the witty Molly was stumped by his piercing eyes. She settled for what came out of his mouth, his compliments made her beam at him, and his enigmatic personality just pulled her in. Even after helping him after the Fall she found herself being pushed back to being "mousy Molly".

It was staring at her kitten coffee mug when Molly Anne Hooper decided that she was sick of it. She was sick of settling for everything. Sick of the fake compliments that both made her day and made her feel pathetic.

"What's wrong Molls?" she heard someone say.

Molly lifted her gaze and she smiled once she saw her best friend Mary Morstan. Mary was Molly's companion for as long as she could remember. Molly remembered meeting the blond woman when they were in college together and she was always enthralled by Mary's background. She was born in India, her father was an army man and she was always raised in an upper class boarding school. Both had become friends the moment they became roommates. And even now, both being 32, Molly found herself wishing she was more like Mary.

"I'm sick Mary" she replied sighing.

Mary immediately began to fuss over her and Molly couldn't her but laugh softly. Mary was known to be very sympathetic to people she cared about but overall, she was a vivacious woman and no none sense woman. And now, she realized that Molly didn't mean literally sick.

"Sherlock?" she asked knowingly.

Molly shook her head and lifted her cup to take a sip of her drink. She trusted Mary with all her heart, but when it came to the topic of Sherlock, Mary tended to rant about how she hated the "prat" detective over how he treated Molly.

"Have you ever just woken up one day, and realized that you have done nothing in your life that brings you great satisfaction? That you've settled on so much that you're not that happy?"

Molly looked at Mary hoping to find some sort of wisdom from her.

"I did"

"You did?" Molly asked surprised.

Mary nodded and lowered her gaze thinking about it.

"And I divorced them. Molly I settled on a husband and one day I woke up realizing that this wasn't what I wanted. And I left, and a year later, I have no regrets. I've never been happier!"

She found herself smiling at Mary's description of how she moved on. It was so like her, to simply move on, and be so strong, stronger than Molly ever imagined herself to be. Taking a deep breath she knew that it was time.

"Well I'm sick of it Mary. I'm sick of my flat, who has a landlord that raises the price of rent, when it's so small. It's a hovel! And I'm sick of looking like a kid; I'm thirty two and I am trying to stop myself from wearing my kitty jumpers, it's comforting but..I know that people find me childish. And Sherlock.."

"-you're sick of him pushing you around. Oh Molly about damn time!"

Molly was then engulfed in a hug and smiled softly hugging back. Yes, Sherlock bullying needed to stop. It needed to end, her emotional attachment or _sentiment_ was what weakened her against Sherlock. He once told her that she mattered, but since then, he treated her a bit better, but often times he resorted to bullying her until he got his way. That needed to stop, and maybe then, he would respect her.

"Take a half day Molls" Mary said suddenly.

"What?"

Mary giggled and took the kitten mug from Molly, throwing the coffee in the sink.

"You and I are going to burn those kitten jumpers, take some money from your giant savings, and get you something were you can no longer be settling for something because it fits. _Don't!_" Mary said immediately as Molly opened her mouth. "Bless your father, but 'cheaper the better' no longer works Molly. You are thirty-two, _not _twelve. At twelve this was cute, hell at twenty years old, I was all for it when it came to you, but now…it's time to put them away dear."

Molly sighed and nodded knowing that there was no point. She walked over to the telephone and immediately called her superior. Mike was fine with it and told her to have a nice day. Taking off her lab coat, she couldn't help but think that this was a good change. She linked arms with Mary and walked arm in arm with her, towards the shopping stores that didn't know what hit them.

She wouldn't realize till later that Sherlock Holmes wasn't even in her thoughts.

**_Author's Note:_**_ I know it's short, and more of a look inside Molly. I wanted to show that she was a separate entity from Sherlock, and with Mary? Well I love Mary based on what I've read from other beautiful writers. I hope that this isn't instantly hated, hell I don't even know to continue this but I'll try. _


	2. Changes

**_Author's Note:_**_ Guys! I love all of you! Thank you to the ones that reviewed, and to the follows too. I was scared to post this up because, I wanted to interpret the characters in a way where could be compliant to Moffat and Gatiss' take on Sherlock. I mean Molly is their creation as it is XD and I'm glad you liked her AND Mary (who I adore in my mind and hope to see her in Sherlock Season 3). _

_I hope you like the new chapter and please review! _

**_For No One_**

**_Chapter 2: Changes_**

_A Week Later…_

Now that Molly Hooper now lived in W1G Wimpole Street, and being the neighbor to the one and only Mary Morstan, she found herself doing something that she had avoided doing for a whole week.

"What about this one?" Molly asked.

Mary turned to face her and a wince came to her face. How could anyone give this petite girl a puce colored jumper with a cat on it? Her mind couldn't fathom why Molly would want to keep it, but knowing Molly, she would scrap what she could to avoid spending more time shopping.

"Molly…" she began.

"Oh fine! I just though the kitten was cute" Molly said frowning.

She threw the jumper to the side and noticed that so far, all her jumpers were being given away. The pink sparkly one her brother had given her for her birthday as a joke; she had wanted to keep it but Mary had winced and said that her pupils were burning. Next was the pale pink one with the white kitten, Mary had responded that the cat had eyes that bore to her soul. So it was in the no pile. Now the puce one.

"Can I keep any of them?" she asked.

Mary moved towards the closet and noticed that all Molly had left was a Christmas jumper, a pure red one, a white one, and a blue one. Those were obviously sentimental, and they had made a deal: so long as she didn't wear them to work, but wore them indoors they could be kept. Mary had a sharp sense of style and being short like Molly, she knew what to wear for her body. In college she had tried to give a makeover to Molly that resulted in her prying a hot pink lipstick from Molly's grasp.

"You can keep these" Mary said pointing at the colors.

Molly clapped her hands, glad that they could compromise.

"These aren't that bad you know, but these" she said lifting the slacks "they make your arse flat"

Molly flushed and glared at her friend. She knew that she had a boyish figure, but those pants fit her, wasn't that all that mattered…apparently not since she threw them to the pile. Was there anything left?

"Jeans look good, as do the skirts…Oh Molly! This dress is so pretty, why haven't you worn it?!"

Molly tilted her head confused, before she felt a cold shiver down her back. It was the dress. _The_ dress, that dress, that had made her feel so worthless and a fool. The sparkles were still there, that she had once thought complimented her bust, and it was tight on her figure.

Mary knew something was wrong immediately as she noticed Molly pale considerably, and worst of all, tears were rising. She threw the dress down and immediately and rushed to her hoping to figure out what happened. Molly swatted her hands lightly not wanting to be emotional. In all honesty, she felt that if Mary tried to comfort her she'd start crying, and she was tired of it.

"That's the dress"

"The dress?" Mary repeated confused.

"Christmas" Molly murmured. "The party, the moment when.."

"Oh! Well we have to burn it"

Molly found herself laughing, as the tears never actually managed to fall. She was grateful and hugged Mary, glad she could help her. Mary knew all about the Christmas Party, the day after that she had invited her to a New Year's Party where Molly had found herself drunk and told her friend all her woes. It was since then, that Mary had a thing against Sherlock, and she hadn't even met him.

"Do you love him Molly?" Mary asked tentatively.

Molly furrowed her brows and wondered this. She leaned over towards her little drawer and took the wine glass that rested on top of it. Taking a sip of her red wine she mulled the question over. _Did she?_ It was hard for her to figure this out.

Sherlock was…the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. At first glance he was beautiful, just waltzing into her life, with a push of the lab's doors, a stoic face, and a billowing coat. She remembered their meeting clearly and found herself reliving it.

**_Flashback.._**

_She was working quickly on the last body of the night. She was new to the job but she jumped right in and was quickly getting it. She was twenty-four, young, and ready to work in the field she had studied so hard in. _

_As she murmured a goodbye to the dead corpse, she zipped the body bag and was ready to push it back to its place of rest. But before she could even do anything, the doors were forcibly pushed open and she whipped around to face the person that had made such an entrance._

_The moment she saw him, he took her breath away. He was gorgeous in every shape and form; his black curls were accentuated by his pale face, and his cheekbones made him seem like he was a walking God. His eyes steely blue, a weakness of her, and despite the fact he was a foot taller than her she found herself wanting to be beside him._

_His face was what intrigued her the most. His expression was cold, aloof, and uncaring of the time, or the scare he had given her. _

_Molly had gotten her wish though, as she found herself a foot away from him. He leaned down and looked her once over, while she stood there, ignoring the rising blush to her cheeks. Once he was done observing her, he began to speak. His voice just added to the total package. _

_"You're new" it was a statement._

_"Y-yes, I'm Doctor Molly Hooper, the pathologist here. Were you looking for Doctor Stamford?" She asked curiously._

_"Yes, but you'll do I suppose. Lord knows it's hard to find someone that is tolerable. Now do make yourself useful and give me the files of this Mr. Davis" _

_Molly frowned and gripped the clipboard tighter to her chest as she stared at him. As handsome as he was, who did he think he was? She was in charge of this lab, and he had no right to even demand anything of her. She wrinkled her nose and before she could even protest she found him inches from her face._

_"Please Molly…may I have some coffee? Oh! Black, two sugars." _

_Her whole face reddened all the more as her breath hitched and she nodded. She nearly ran out of the lab, as she went to grab his coffee. When she came back she saw him reading the files that he wanted out of her. Lifting his gaze, he walked her direction. She expected him to say something to her, perhaps ask her out on a date, or dinner, she was peckish. Instead, she found the cup being taken as he breezed passed her._

_"Thank you Molly Hooper, I shall see you soon"_

_"Wait!" she found herself exclaiming._

_He turned around and faced her, intrigued at her outburst._

_"Who are you?" she asked curiously._

_"Ah yes" he drawled out. "Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective and I'll be back soon, thank you for the coffee"_

_And he was off. It was only then that she realized not only had he gotten his way, but she became his waitress and aid. _

**_End Flashback…_**

Ever since then, eight years ago, she was fascinated by him. At first yes, it was his looks but after talking to him, and knowing him more, she realized that he was beautiful in his own way. He was brilliant, and honest to a fault. He always told her that her outfits were unflattering, that each man that she dated had something wrong with them, and kept not only tracked her weight, but he also tracked her menstruation much to her mortification.

It was always them two, he asked her to be his aid, his right hand during cases when it came to the lab. It wasn't until John Watson came into their lives that she was once more in the shadows. But she didn't mind it, nor did she resent John. She knew how Sherlock was and John made him a better person. Yes she was jealous of their relationship, but she understood where she stood.

"Hello? Molly you still here with me?" Mary asked curiously.

Molly snapped out of her thoughts and let out a small smile towards her friend.

"Sorry just…trailed off" she said grinning. "What was your question?"

Mary raised her brow.

"You know perfectly well now do answer my question"

Molly rolled her eyes.

"In all honesty I don't know. I had this insipid crush on him the moment I met him..eight years ago! Can I be any more pathetic?"

She groaned and placed the glass back on the table. She then covered her face in sheer frustration at how weak she was to him. She could never say no, she couldn't tell him how big of a prick he was to her. Only once, _once_ she managed to tell him. It broke her heart, that was the moment when the possibility of him actually finding her attractive ended.

"Molly.."

"No, come on Mary, eight years? Eight! I've fancied him but love? I don't know. How can I love someone that hurts me so often? That tells me how many pounds I've gained, that sometimes even says I'm a spinster already."

At Mary's angry expression she found herself defending him.

"But there's this side of him. Under all that cool exterior lays a man that is very passionate about life. He loves his job, and despite his repeated rants about how he hated people, he's helping them all the time. He has people that he cares about: John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, his brother to some degree I think-"

"-and you?" Mary interrupted.

"I don't know about me" she said blushing. "But he said I mattered. When he stayed at my flat I saw a new side of him. He didn't play around with me, didn't flirt with me to get his way. He was a miserable sod to be honest" she said laughing softly remembering it. "But for some reason I liked him all the more. This dark aura that surrounds him, this part of him that just is so unique that I can't just walk away from."

"Sounds like you love him Molly" Mary said frowning.

Molly said nothing but instead looked at her closet. It was empty, and she needed to fill that up with things to start her new improved life.

"When are we doing shopping?"

Mary grinned brightly at this and ran off to get the list that she had made from her own flat, leaving Molly alone for a minute. Looking around, Molly found herself smiling at her new home. It was a lovely flat, three bedrooms, a large living room, and one bathroom. It was lovelier and not too expensive, considering how she was earning a large paycheck from St. Barts. It was a lot ritzier than she was used to, but Mary had told her that buying it, meant that it was a start of a new life. Her old tiny hovel was nothing compared to this. Even Toby was happy about the place, purring as he rolled over the new pillows.

She had sold all of her old furniture, and she had only kept the basics: the bookshelves, the armoire, the headboard, the lamps, and all things like that. But she had bought a new bed (bad memories from Jim in that old mattress) a comfortable couch that was fit for a doctor (no more floral pattern on an ugly puce colored fabric) , and the curtains a lovely shade of blue. She smiled seeing now that she was an accomplished person, and not some shy, meek and useless person.

"Still not believing it?" Mary said.

Molly whipped around to face her and smiled brilliantly.

"Just happy, thank you Mary. You're the best friend a girl could hope for"

The women embraced and Mary was excited to see what was next. Grabbing Molly's hand she dragged her towards the bright day, where she would find an absolutely new look. Changes had already occurred, little things of course. For one thing, all her makeup was thrown out. She was given a lecture and a proper lesson on how to apply colors that did something for her instead of making her look paler, or like a lady of the night. Secondly was her hair; it now looked healthier and vibrantly brown. The layers did look better (and she regretted crying during her hair cut).

Now was time for her change clothes. Yes she realized that looks and everything materialistic didn't make her change her attitude or her demeanor towards Sherlock itself, but what it did make her feel was confident. She felt like she was a woman, a woman worthy of attention. Sherlock be damned, but someone would pay attention to Molly.

Once they reached the store, Mary immediately dragged Molly into the racks of clothes for her to pick. She was given a few rules, much to her amusement.

1) No kittens. No exceptions.

2) Nothing too loose, it needs to fit the body.

3) Pick your actual size and nothing bigger.

And with these rules Molly was looking through all the things. So far they had decided on jeans and pencil skirts appropriate for work. They had decided on some slacks and solid colored blouses to be professional. Then were sundresses much to her glee that were in floral patterns and complimented her. She never noticed how feminine she could be. Other than her love of pink (she had picked a light pink dress much to Mary's amusement) she didn't know this because she had no real motherly influence. Now she was learning and took joy in it.

"Oh Molly that's lovely, that one too, now come on, we have to pick out shoes! Oh I love this"

Molly quickly went to pay, and smiled as Mary tried to pay for half of it. She was appreciative of her friend's dedication of her, and helping her. Once done she walked off wondering how Sherlock would react once he saw her the next day.

He had gone off on a case and hadn't seen her in a week, she wondered if once over, he would even care.

"Stop thinking of him Molls"

"Right"

With a grin she was off with her vivacious and excited friend ranting about the men she would come knocking on her door.

**_Monday morning…_**

Molly smiled brightly as she walked through the doors. People noticed how different she looked. For once in her life, they saw her as the thirty-two year old woman that she actually was. The blouse that she wore showed her small lithe figure, and the pencil skirt showed the curve of her hip and the soft curves in her body, that made up for her petite figure and small bust. At first she was unsure, especially since she remembered Sherlock's comment about her compensating for the size of her breasts, but Mary had assured her that her bust was just fine in her colorful and often times embarrassing words.

Even in the tube she found herself getting looks from men that would once never even spare a glance at her. She had accidentally made eye contact with one of these men and she found herself smiling coyly before she got off on her stop. This was the Molly Hooper that she was all along, she was no longer thriving on the scraps given to her, no more Jims, who used her. Oh no, now she would be selective of who got near her.

Once her lab doors closed, she slipped on her lab coat that was better fitting, it was all about work. She tied her hair up and was ready to work on Mrs. Morrison. She began her first cut and her new self was now forgotten for her job.

Everything had gone smoothly, and she was grateful that Sherlock hadn't appeared, especially on the first day that she had done this transformation. She found it refreshing that now when she applied make up it was for her and not so Sherlock would notice her. And that she dressed for herself, not hoping to make an impression on Jim from IT. Now it was all about her.

Perhaps she had spoken too soon…she sighed once she heard the lab doors swing open. Walking towards her was Sherlock bloody Holmes, without a John Watson to protect her from his tongue lashing. John was probably talking to Mary who was two floors up.

"Molly I need the body of a 64, year old woman, with a case of diabetes, and possible heart problems. And coffee."

Molly found herself being annoyed at how he made no mention of her looks.

In all honestly he hadn't even faced her, or noticed her clothes. He didn't need to. In Sherlock's mind she was wearing a hideous kitten jumper, and he didn't need that to burn his corneas. But once she huffed and walked off, the clacking caught his attention.

Turning around, he noticed something different about Molly. He furrowed his brows and noticed that she looked more of a doctor, and looked more serious than she usually did. The old lab coat that she wore was twice her size, and she had once told him that it made her feel comfortable.

'_The coat, a size appropriate for her height; obviously new from the bright white that it's in and hasn't been washed, or at most washed once. No cat hair, surprisingly enough, and it seems that she's being more careful than usual'_ Sherlock thought.

He lowered his gaze towards her shoes and noticed that this explained her random height. Now she was two inches taller, by no means a big difference but her posture was inexplicably better. She usually slouched when she walked, now she was firmer in her steps.

Once she came back, was when Sherlock noticed her change. The pencil skirt, ended above her knee and the black fit her like a glove all the way up to her waist the cinched the blush colored blouse under it nicely. She looked like a different person and Sherlock didn't like that.

She noticed his frown and her step floundered a bit. She pretended that she didn't just wobble and instead handed him the coffee. He said nothing and instead took the cup and took a long sip, ignoring the singe.

"Molly…I thought we spoke about this. It's detrimental for you to even try to date. God knows you've done more harm than good in those _dates_ of yours"

Molly glared immediately as he said this. Just who did he think he was?

"For your information Sherlock, I don't have a _date_."

Sherlock tilted his head in interest and looked her over once more.

"Then why are you wearing clothing so out of your…_price range_?"

Molly placed her hands on her hips and for once finding herself wanting to punch him for all that was worth. Even if she had to get a ladder to reach him, she'd do it.

"These items are not out of my price range?! Also, Sherlock I dressed like _this_ for myself. This is a new look I'm trying, for _myself_ not for a git that doesn't realize what's in front of him if it slapped him in the face"

It was his turn to glare. He thought that she had gotten over her stupid crush when living together. She no longer blushed or stuttered around him and he found himself having to stop himself from faking a smile or giving her an empty compliment. But he preferred her in her hideous kitten jumpers, the ones that showed her to be a childish and meek pathologist. He didn't want to deal with this…woman.

"I suggest you return it, it only shows the two and a half pounds you've gained"

Molly saw read and before she knew it, she had hit Sherlock's arm with the clipboard she had picked up. He looked surprise at her movement but soon returned to his normal look.

"Mary is a terrible influence on you" he said ignoring the sting on his arm.

"This is me Sherlock. I am _Doctor _Molly Hooper and from now on, you will see that the power has shifted. This is _my_ lab and you are only to come with John Watson. You can no longer _borrow_ body parts, or microscopes – oh don't give me that look I keep count and really Sherlock blaming the med students?- another thing, if you ever try to _manipulate_ me like you did before, expect another swat, got it Sherlock Holmes? And stop pouting"

"I do not pout!" Sherlock replied glaring.

He didn't like this, it was _his _lab and she was _his_ pathologist. He didn't need John there. He had been mandating this lab for eight year and he would make sure that this possession would end soon. John would simply have to sever ties with this toxic Mary Morstan and Molly would have to find new friends, friends Sherlock approved of.

"I'll be taking my leave now"

He walked out of the lab thinking of what he could do to get the old Molly back. The nice Molly that made him good coffee not the cafeteria coffee, and taking a sip it seemed that this Molly was no longer showing her affection through coffee. Damn her and damn Mary Morstan.


End file.
